


Storm Chasing

by earlgreytea68



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: M/M, What even is my life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-02
Updated: 2014-07-02
Packaged: 2018-02-07 04:24:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1885056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earlgreytea68/pseuds/earlgreytea68
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Did you know that the first storm of the next hurricane season is going to be named Arthur?</i>
</p>
<p>In which there is a tropical storm named Arthur moving up the Eastern Seaboard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Storm Chasing

**Author's Note:**

> Guys, I don't even know. 
> 
> Last night I was reading an Inceptionfic while the weatherman was telling me about the progress of Tropical Storm Arthur and it was this weird conflation of two things and I woke up this morning with this fic fully formed in my head. It's kind of a fic with an expiration date, so it's going up right now, even though I totally did not intend to have my first posted fic in this fandom be this little ficlet, seeing as how I have this 100,000-word WIP epic I'm getting ready...

The text comes while Arthur is busy trying to hold a second-level dream together because of the stupidity of his architect. Good architects have become so hard to come by since Ariadne’s “retirement” that sometimes Arthur thinks he should just start being his own architect. Sometimes Arthur thinks that he should just be a one-person team and not deal with any of these idiots anymore. When Arthur has thoughts like that, he thinks that maybe it’s time for him to retire as well, and then he does math and realizes how young he is by every objective standard in the world and wonders why he moronically chose a career that would have him retiring in his early thirties. 

So anyway it’s a while later when he finally collects the text from Eames. 

_Did you know that the first storm of the next hurricane season is going to be named Arthur?_

Arthur blinks at the text and wonders how tired he is, but no, his eyes are focusing just fine and that’s definitely what the text reads. 

Arthur texts back, _Are you drunk?_

His phone buzzes as he’s brushing his teeth before bed, and he checks it, hoping that it’s nothing about a job, because he needs a good long break before the next job, but it’s Eames again. 

_No._

_But that can be fixed._

_Are you buying?_

Arthur sighs and gets into bed and texts him back. _It’s late where I am and I am going to bed._

Eames’s text is pretty much immediate. _You just almost gave away your location!_ Arthur can well hear the glee in the tone. _Careful, you might be getting soft._

Arthur doesn’t reply and thinks about retiring. 

***

“I’m thinking about retiring,” Eames says the next time Arthur sees him, which is not at all connected with a job. A few weeks after the text exchange, he happens to walk into the same Tokyo bar that Arthur has chosen and he slides into the seat next to him as if this was all prearranged. 

“Are you following me?” Arthur asks. 

“You should do something about your paranoia,” Eames tells him, and orders a drink. Then he says, “Business is slow and boring and dull and I keep thinking that the young pups don’t have the flair we had and those are old-man thoughts and possibly I should retire.” 

Arthur doesn’t say he’s been having similar thoughts. Arthur says, “What the hell would you do if you retired?” 

“Spend some of my money. Lay by an infinity pool in a resort on a tropical island somewhere drinking pina coladas and pulling pretty young things.” 

Arthur snorts. 

Eames looks offended. “You don’t think I could pull pretty young things?”

“I think you’d get thrown out.” 

“For being too charming for my own good?” 

“For being _bored_. You’d be bored and you’d start some sort of scam and—”

“And I’d never get _caught_ , Arthur. Christ, give me _some_ credit.” 

“You’d be miserable, though. You’d hate it. The way you hate Monte Carlo.”

“I never said I hate Monte Carlo.” 

No, Eames had always pretended to love Monte Carlo but Arthur had been with him in Monte Carlo and Arthur knows when Eames is bored to tears and just putting on a show for everyone else. “You hate Monte Carlo,” Arthur says. 

“Okay, fine,” Eames says, sounding exasperated. “What would you do with your retirement?” 

“I’m not going to retire,” Arthur says. 

“You’re going to eventually, someday.”

“Maybe I’ll meet a nice girl and settle down and buy a house with a white picket fence.” 

Eames stares at him, and then he grins. “Talk about boredom.”

“Cobb seems happy enough.” 

“You’ve never been Cobb. Tell you what: You buy the house with the white picket fence, and I’ll take over some Caribbean resort, and every so often we’ll meet up and go storm chasing.” 

“Storm chasing,” Arthur echoes. “Like tornadoes?” 

Eames laughs like Arthur is hilarious. 

***

Arthur doesn’t hear from Eames again for months and months, which makes him uncertain whether Eames actually had been following him back in Tokyo. Arthur is laying low after a job that was lucrative but unimaginative when his phone buzzes with a text. 

_Where are you?_

Arthur texts back, _Nice try, but not giving you my location that easily._

Eames’s next text is a website link, and Arthur texts back, _Are you sending me a virus? I will hunt you down and rip out your throat if you’re sending me a virus._

_Clearly a proportionate response_ , Eames texts back, and then, _Also, I have recommendations for who you can talk to about that paranoia problem of yours._

Arthur ignores this and clicks on the link because he can’t resist it. 

It takes him to the National Weather Service website, where they are monitoring a tropical depression that is apparently going to be named Arthur. 

Arthur texts back, _Thank you for worrying about me, but I am not in the path of this storm._

Eames texts back, _You *are* this storm._

Arthur links him to the website explaining how hurricanes are named. 

Eames texts back, _You have a literalism problem, too._

***

The tropical depression turns into a tropical storm and Arthur takes far more interest in it than is necessary when he’s holed up in a tiny town on the Croatian coast, far far away from a storm on the U.S. Eastern seaboard. 

There is a knock on his door and Arthur eases the safety off of his gun and answers it carefully, and it’s a man with what he calls a “special delivery,” all flashing smiles. 

Arthur waits until he’s gone and his door is back to being padlocked before he opens the envelope, and out falls an airplane ticket to Raleigh and a note scrawled on a piece of paper. _Come storm chasing with me._

***

Arthur may have jumped when Eames said to, but he isn’t about to ask _how high_ as well, so he ignores any plans Eames might have for him and rents a car and drives to the Outer Banks. When Eames arrives in his wake, Arthur says, “You are _definitely_ following me.” 

And Eames says, "I'm _chasing_ you. Arthur. Really." And sighs heavily. 

Arthur blinks at him blankly, because he doesn’t understand the distinction. It’s not like Arthur’s been running especially hard lately. 

“I’m _storm chasing_ ,” Eames tells him. “A _storm_. Named _Arthur_.” 

“Yes,” says Arthur, slowly, confused. 

“Darling, we’re going to work on your literalism so you appreciate my romantic gestures more in the future, but for now what you can do is kiss me back.” 

“Oh,” says Arthur, stupidly. 

But he does.


End file.
